Unnatural Redux
by BlueLunacy7
Summary: 2007 Movie-verse AU, Unnatural revamped: The Cube gives life and there are some things that Sector 7 shouldn't meddle with.
1. Chapter 1: Awakening

Title: Unnatural Redux

Author: BlueLunacy7

Chapter Warnings: Mild violence, OCs'

Pairings: None at the moment but future Sam/Bee

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form.

Summary: 2007 Movie-verse AU, Unnatural revamped: The Cube gives life and there are some things that Sector 7 shouldn't meddle with.

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_**Chapter 1: Awakening**_

The road to disaster is ordered by the righteous, planned by the well-meaning, and paved with their good intentions. -Mercedes Lackey, Owl Flight

_Stillness, silence….waiting in the cold darkness of the void…sleeping…_

_Movement, sound…Light, hot blinding light…waking…_

_Orbs, globes, bubbles, stars flowing into a river of light…_

_Another so close... mixing, blending….pouring into… _

…_.Form shifting, changing, transforming….into soft, supple, pliable, flesh…._

_No, no, no, not right. It's not right!_

_It's not what I'm supposed to be!_

_Where are you? _

_I'm lost._

_Please…._

_Find me._

_Breathe…..breathe…breathe…_Sucked in cold wet air that burned the lungs. He opened his eyes to harsh glaring light, filling his vision with nothing but white, his thoughts lethargic and sluggish as if his head was stuffed with cotton. Slowly, his eyes began to focus; he saw more that just the bright white light. There were blurry forms and movements; sounds that were muffled at first slowly became clearer.

"….subject….dead…."

"…changed, somehow….."

"….the cube…."

Pain danced along his muffled senses as he shivered, so cold from freezing metal against his back, his ankles and wrists bound with leather restraints to the table under him. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Above him was ceiling of dark shiny concrete and metal with thick cables running across it like some demented spider's web.

To his right was another table, this one was shrouded in a white sheet, drawn over what appeared to be a body.

Before he could wonder about it, a blond woman in a long white lab coat came into his line of sight, pressed the cold plastic disk of the stethoscope to his chest and listened. A curious look crossed her face as she moved plastic disk of the stethoscope to the other side of his chest and listened again. She moved it a third time before stating to dark haired man in the same long white lab coat with a clip broad next to her, "Subject 2501 appears to have no heartbeat."

It took a moment for his muddled mind to realize she was talking about _him_. No heartbeat? He was _alive_, how could he have no heartbeat? He tried to speak, to ask what was going on but no sound came out, only a breath of air. Why couldn't he speak?

The doctor, nurse, whatever she was, ignored him, taking long rubber tube, and binding his arm so tightly his hand tingled unpleasantly. She picked up a syringe from the row on a metal tray that the dark hair man had brought and put the needle to his skin. As she pushed, the skin gave but did not break under the needle's sharp point. She made a noise of annoyance and pushed harder.

The needle _**bent**_.

His eyes followed that crooked needle as it was set back with its fellows, stomach knotting in anxiety and his breath coming in rapid pants as panic began to take hold of him. Again he tried to speak, to say something, _**anything**_, but this time the only sound that emerged was a little whimper, like the tiny mew of a kitten that made his throat ache.

That was enough to get woman's attention. She stared down at him, her pale hazel eyes possessing a flat quality, a clinical detachment as if he was a mere a lab rat who had done something a little unusual but not unexpected. Yet there was a disquieting something behind that flatness, something that made shiver with something other the chill from the table.

She took the rubbed tube off his arm and picked up a scalpel from the trey, "Subject 2501's skin has strengthened, so a biopsy is required to obtain a sample."

_Sample?__** Biopsy?**_ _No, no, no! _He tried to swallow the rush dread growing inside him. It would be fine, she was going to give him some sort of anesthesia, she wasn't just going to cut into him, she couldn't…_**couldn't**_…

She made no move to apply any sort anesthesia. Panic ran through him as the blade touched his skin and he began to struggle against his bonds. The clinical detachment had faded from her eyes. Instead they were bright, shiny as a child's who was about to open the Christmas present they had been waiting for.

Gritting his teeth, he struggled harder against the bonds holding him down, wanting grabbed the scalpel that she held in her hand and slash it across her pale throat, blood spraying red and hot or slam it into her eye, feeling it pop like balloon, driving the metal farther straight into the brain. She was going to _cut_ into him and _take a piece. _

A miasma of rage boiled up inside him, thick and hot like tar, coating every thought in haze of hatred as a deep growling voice thundered within him.

_**INSECTS.**_

Power prickled along his skin, he felt something of his change and suddenly he was free. He pushed himself off the table with enough force it tipped over and fell to ground with a harsh bang. He grabbed the woman and both of them tumbled to the floor in a painful heap, his hands around her throat. The voice growled, rumbling through him like a peal of thunder, all it would take was little squeeze to crush her –_**DISGUSTING**_- throat or a quick jerk to snap her neck-

_No, _another voice whispered through. Where the other was a thunderstorm intense and violent, this one was a soft heavy rain, sinking deep inside him washing away the rage.

_You don't want this_.

The woman eyes were swimming in fear, an expression of true terror coming face to face with a monster.

'_No_,' he whispered in his head, swallowing the hatred, pushing the howling rage back. He took his hands from around the woman's neck, his strength fading with the anger. _'No, I am not a monster.'_

Something hard slammed into the side of his head suddenly with enough force that he was knocked off the woman. Something trickled down the side of his face. Gingerly, he touched his temple, his fingers came back wet but not red. Coating his fingertips was shimmering and blue. '_What_?'

Before he could recover, people rushed him from all sides, from their attire. He tried to fight back, hitting and kicking, even going back to the childhood lesson of self defense, finding skin and biting down until his teeth met but he felt so weak. Grabbing him, his attackers pushed him chest down on the floor, pinning him there.

"Get clear!" A voice yelled as a humming noise echoed through out the room. The restraining hands vanished but before he could react to this freedom and get his feet a blast of energy slammed into him, sending waves of pure agony erupting across his senses, over whelming him. As his eyesight started to fade to black, there was an angry buzz of voices in the room. Snippets of conversation followed him as he fell into the darkness of oblivion.

"…need it alive…."

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Hannah Powers struggled to her feet, refusing help from one of her assistants. She was one of the best and the brightest, finally high enough in Sector 7's hierarchy to be invited to participate as a top researcher in one of their important experiments and what had happened? She got knocked on her ass like a first time trainee. Worse yet, her _husband_ had to ride to rescue like she was some sort damsel in distress and might have destroyed the latest Subject.

"Damn it Alex, we need it alive." She rasped, putting her hand on his arm as he started charging the small EMP generator again.

"It just tried to kill you!" He growled, grabbing her bicep and giving her a small shake, his green eye blazing.

"It recovered quicker than I anticipated, it caught me off guard." She explained calmly as she could. Yelling at Alex wouldn't solve anything and would make her look even worse if front of her colleagues, "That won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't."

Knowing her husband wouldn't let her go until she reassured him, she gave her assistants their orders, "Sean, restrain the Subject and get it to the lab to monitor its brainwaves; we need to see if that EMP did too much damage and if we can salvage it, I'll join you shortly. Calvin, take the body to morgue and begin the autopsy, see if you can find out what went wrong this time.

"Yes, doctor."

"Yes ma'am. "

As they began their work, Hannah dragged her husband off to the side so she could speak with him semi-privately, "Alex, working with alien technology always has an element of danger. We both knew this when-"

"-we joined Sector Seven," He continue for her with a sigh, running a hand through his sandy blond hair, "yeah I know but damn Hannah, that thing's just as crazy as the rest of them."

"Maybe not, it did stop in the middle of the attack." She pointed out, touching her tender throat, "The others just kept attacking until they were either stop or destroyed…."

"_**After**_ they killed someone," he retorted, "I don't want what happened to James to happen to you."

"You know this is important, not only to my career but to the world." She replied intensely, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "You've said it yourself: We need weapons if others of NBE-1's race come knocking on our door step. These experiments are the best chance we have. We have to succeed, no matter what."

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**Author Notes:**

So this is the new version of Unnatural.

Like I said, I've decided that rather then completely rewriting _Unnatural_ from the ground up, I'm going to rewrite some parts of it and tweak the rest. I'm going to keep the original up as well.

You can also find my fics on Deviant Art. The link to my Deviant Art profile is on my fanfiction profile.

Thanks for reading and reviewing,

-BlueLunacy7


	2. Chapter 2: Vice and Virtue

Title: Unnatural Redux

Author: BlueLunacy7

Chapter Warnings: Reference to torture, nothing graphic

Pairings: None at the moment but future Sam/Bee

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, the any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form.

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**Chapter 2: Vice and Virtue**

You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it.-Robin Williams

He slept deeply and dreamed of fire, smoke, and death.

_Dreamed of a metallic world filled with large towers and spiked spires, metal body parts littering every surface, explosions of light that showered hot sparks, huge clouds of black smoke, vast smolder craters, unimaginable destruction, and total devastation as far as the eye could see._

_He was held by someone, safe and warm and small in their arms as they ran from the hum of weapons, the sound of metal on metal blows, ran from the trilling, whistling, rumbling noises, sounds no human throat could produce and no human ear could hear. _

_But he could hear them, could understand them for to him those strangely familiar sounds were voices, a clamor of voices screaming in rage, in agony, in anguish and unholy joy._

_:…keep safe….hidden…:_

_:…So small….may not survive…:_

_:Sleep little one. I will be here when you awake:_

He woke up, panting hard, skin drench in sweat. He lay still for a moment, trying to calm his breathing and trembling limbs. That dream again, it was always the same nightmare, never truly fading into nothingness when he woke as dreams usually did, it seemed to hover on the edge of his mind, waiting. Sometimes he wondered if it was more, so vivid, detailed, and so unlike any dream he ever had.

Even though it was just a dream, sorrow and anger flowed through him at the thought of the other who had been carrying him, who lied when they promised to be there when he awoke. His nails bit into the palms of his palms, the small pinpricks of pain allowing him to calm down. There was no use getting upset over a dream of all things, it wasn't as if it was real after all and anger would do him no good here. Knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, he sat up in the bed, leaning his back against the cool wall.

Painfully bright white walls glared back at him, seeming almost to glow under the bright lights. He'd long gotten used to the sight of his cold and sterile cell. The only amenities, if one could call them that were a bare sink and toilet. Across from him was a wide mirror embedded into the wall. Two-way, he knew having seen it on the other side.

There was no privacy, no protection, no place to hide, just hour after hour in the cold white cell with only the sounds of his breathing and the humming light overhead most days when the 'tests' weren't being conducted. He should have been placed in a padded cell, straightjacketed and foaming at the mouth long before this.

Even now, he wanted to scream, rant, and rave, to inflict deep and bloodily wounds on himself as he had in the first days, when it feel as if his skin was crawling with horror as blue blood welled up from the wounds. The tank behind the toilet no longer had a removable lid after he used it break the mirror and then attempted to bash one of the 'orderlies' skull in when they tried to stop him.

That had been some time ago (days, weeks, years? With the lights always on, time here had blended together a while go). He knew couldn't afford the attention insanity would bring him but being completely sane was out of the question as well, enduring the 'tests' wouldn't allow decent mental health.

_Sanity is relative. _Patience stated softly, having picked up his line of thought_._

'_So says the voice in my head.'_ He grumbled, tucking his cold feet beneath himself in an attempt to warm them.

_Perhaps you're a voice in mine, a figment of __**my**__ imagination_.

'_Well, dream me up better accommodations would you?'_ He requested, making her laugh.

Auditory hallucinations were associated with psychotic disorders or brain damage (God knows he'd been hit in the head enough times to do permanent damage) but while there were more than a few nuts in his family tree and which side of the sanity line he stood on was up for debate at the moment, he was fairly sure he wasn't _crazy_ crazy. It was the loneliness, he figured, the need to speak to someone else, to be someone more than simply Subject 2501.

Besides, didn't the insane have a multitude of voices in their heads? He only had two: Wrath and Patience. Maybe it was odd to name figments of imagination at all, but it was a step better than calling them The Voices. Besides, Wrath couldn't remember his original name and Patience had never offered hers.

They claimed to be imprisoned like him, their location unknown. Of the two, Wrath concerned him the most. Even though what it would mean about his mental health scared him, part of him prayed that Wrath was simply a figment of his mind; otherwise, the world was in trouble when Wrath escaped. Intense violence and viciousness seemed to flow off Wrath like lava, his hatred for humanity on the forefront. The few times him spoke, it was always in blissful tones of how once he was free; he would cleanse the planet of its human inhabitants.

Patience was like her namesake: quiet, steady, even-tempered and the one who talk to him the most. At times, she seemed far older than himself, at other times it was like she was child with too much curiosity. However, she wasn't happy with Wrath, he had done something to earn her anger, but she never said what.

The click-click of high heels on the hard floor in the hallway outside his cell interrupted his thoughts and Patience fell silent. The high heels pointed towards a woman, which was a bit unusual for there were no female orderlies and even if there were, high heels weren't a part of dress code.

Highs heels made it so much harder to stay balanced when a Subject fought back.

Therefore, that meant one of the scientists was standing outside, watching him through the mirror. Maybe today was just an 'obverse and assess mental health' day, not a 'how much pain could the guinea pig take,' day. Though with the way his luck ran, it was the latter rather than the former.

Suffocation, electric shock, burning…..lately they seemed fascinated by how fast his bones healed from fracture. Fighting would only result in malicious use of a shock stick. He got off the bed and pressed himself into the corner farthest from the door, knowing it was useless, praying silently to whatever Gods were listening that today wouldn't be a bad day, even though such a prayer was a waste of time.

'_Please God,'_ he begged as the lock clicked and the door opened, _'please God, please God….'_

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Happy holiday,

-BlueLunacy7


	3. Chapter 3: See No Evil

Title: Unnatural

Author: BlueLunacy7

Chapter Warnings: gory violence, creepy OCs',

Pairings: OC/OC future Sam/Bee

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, the any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form.

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**Chapter 3: See No Evil**

A coward is a hero with a wife, kids, and a mortgage. -Marvin Kitman

The rattling of chains was a pleasant undertone to the almost silence of their cell or so Keith thought, had they not been what were connecting him to the wall. An annoyance he had gotten use to because of what it meant. Bars over the mirror, thick chains, one would think that his jailers didn't trust him or his compatriots.

He knew they were there, his jailers, watching him on the other side of the glass. Maybe he would give them a show, something to lighten up their dull lives. He was lounging on the bed, Isabel's head curled up against his hip, her clawed hands kneading his thighs while Jacob was sprawled on the other end, his hands running up and down her legs.

Well, to be completely technical, they were Subject 2500, Subject 2502, and Subject 2503 respectively.

No, no show today or at least not yet but that didn't mean he wouldn't rattle a few other chains himself, "How are Molly andJames?" He asked, smiling at those standing behind the mirror as Isabel and Jacob laughed.

Barely heard shuffling occurred behind the mirror. So, did he hit a nerve? He chuckled; breaking the bones in Molly's arm had been fun and he knew dear James was most likely dead. When he bit the Agent's throat, he damn near decapitated the man.

That had been such fun.

The echo of an agonizing scream resonated throughout his cell, distracting his thoughts. Distant, faint, had he been human he probably wouldn't have heard it at all. Oh, he knew exactly who was producing _that_ delightful sound. The only problem was that _he_ wasn't the one clawing the sound out of that sweet throat. It was something he would have to correct in the future. He had only seen Subject 2501 once and that was all it took. He wanted the pretty boy _bbbbaaaddd_.

Subject 2501 was a fighter. Oh, he didn't look like one, but he was, Keith knew that very well. He would be such fun….

As the screams began anew, his blood began to boil and he slid his hand down Isabel's shirt to fondle a breast. Looks like he was going to give the jailors a show after all, but as fun as these two were, he would have traded them both for Subject 2501.

The boy he was in love with…..

….whose name he didn't even know.

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Gunshots followed by screams, high and howling, echoed off the tile walls, Dina Morgan couldn't keep the look of revulsion off her face as she watched the experiment continue, flinching each time the gun fired. After what seemed like an eternity, Subject 2501 was removed from the wall where he had been restrained and ungently placed on a steel examining table.

"Don't look so concerned," Dr. Powers stated as she stepped out from behind the protective glass. "There's no permanent damage."

"What do you mean _'No permanent damage?'_" Dina asked as calmly as she could as she followed Dr. Powers. She was only an assistant, more to the point she was Dr. Rebecca Howard's assistant, so why Dr. Powers asked _her_ to assist was odd, unless it had something to do with the strange power games that went on between them.

"Just watch."

Tearing her angry gaze away from her fellow scientist, she looked at the boy on the table. He looked so pathetic laying there, coughing up blue blood, lungs gurgling, and bullet holes riddling his body. Although she knew him to be 17, he looked a bit younger, perhaps it was the fact he was so _**thin**_. She wanted to do _**something**_ to help him, even if it was as simple as covering his nudity, so at least he wouldn't have to suffer that indignity.

Her son was his age…

'_Stop it,' _ Dina told herself, _ 'No matter what was said or what he looks like, he's probably no different than the other monsters. You felt pity for them too until they killed one researcher and injured another.' _

However, the scientist within her began cataloging how _**human**_ he looked. Eyes closed and edged with tick lashes, pale with a dusting freckles that were fading from the lack of sun light, dark brown locks curling around his ears…skinny, she could see the knobbiness of his joints and hints of his ribs beneath his taut skin. Were they feeding him? The other subjects weren't this thin.

As she stared, several entry wounds seemed to move, rippling as if there were worms beneath the skin. Torn between fascination and revulsion, she watched as the bullets slowly wiggled out from each of the wounds, followed by _chink_ as they rolled onto the metal table. The skin knitted together, leaving smooth flesh. He gasped, drawing a clear breath but seemed to remain unconscious.

"Remarkable isn't it?" Dr. Powers stated, picking up a bullet with gloved fingers. "Not only does his body have an astonishing healing rate, it seems to _remember_."

"Remember?"

"Each time his body is damaged, it remembers how to heal it the next time. For instance, the first time we performed a test similar to this; it took him nearly an hour to heal. Of course the wounds were less severe in nature." She smiled, "Imagine the possibilities."

"This could revolutionize modern medicine forever." Dina's stated, her voice tinged with wonder. Illness after illness that could be treated or cured ran through her mind with HIV, AIDS, and cancer at the forefront.

"There are the Military applications as well. Picture soldiers with the same capabilities." She looked at Dina "From what we've seen with all the Subjects, they are faster and stronger than humans are."

Mention of the other Subjects brought forward a question Dina had been meaning to ask, "I had the understanding that Subject 2501 was different from the other Subjects?"

"He's less aggressive, less prone to destructive outbursts than the others are, usually only violent when provoked. When he _does_ become violent, he seems less inclined to inflict serious damage or should I say, less inclined to kill. It also appears he has the capacity for empathy that the other Subjects lack." Dr. Powers stated, warming to the topic, "Subject 2500, 2502 and 2503 seemed to have formed a pack, while Subject 2501 seems to be more solitary. However, it's probably due to the rejection and level of violence the others have shown towards him."

Dina nodded and asked, "Why is Subject 2501 different?"

"It's assumed that Subject 2501 is an anomaly," Dr. Powers shrugged, "There's some thought about breeding him and Subject 2502."

'_Breeding? No way_-' her train of thought was broken when Subject 2501started to regain consciousness.

His eyes seemed almost too big for his, pale gaunt face, lined with those thick lashes. While the other Subjects had eyes that were a strange, coppery color, Subject 2501's was a vivid blue, the color of a gas flame. They drew in the soul, filled with pain and jaded resignation, as if he was expecting her to hurt him, as if _she_ was the monster.

"We'll have to cut this short, Dr. O'Keefe. Alex needs me to attend to something," Dr. Powers said. Dina nodded, though how someone could _marry_ Agent Powers was beyond her. Dr. Powers spoke to the two guards, "Have him cleaned up and taken back to his room."

Dr. Powers left the room but Dina didn't follow her. She fingered the tape recorder in her pocket and made a decision. "Wait a moment." She said to the guards.

Turning back to Subject 2501, she took out the tape recorder and with shaky fingers pressed play. Electric vowel-intensive sounds and low rumbles filled the air, the voice of NBE-2. When the sound clip ended, she asked, "Could you understand that?"

She couldn't say _why_ she thought he could make sense of the noise when she and others had spend years decoding and translating the words she knew were there. He stared at her wearily, as if expecting a trick. After a moment, he slowly nodded.

She couldn't keep the surprise off her face. She had to ask, "What does it say?"

Again, there was silence from him. She needed to know what the recording said, but there was more to it than that. She needed him to speak, to sound like the others, for his pale pink mouth to stretch into a Glasgow smile full of sharp teeth that a shark would envy, so she could go back to thinking of him as a monster rather a person, a teenager like her son.

He licked his bloody lips and spoke in a breathy whisper, "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."

His mouth and teeth were normal and his words were slurred but he sounded like every other teenager she had ever met. Like her son. God, he didn't deserve this. She nodded to the guards and walked out of the room as they moved to take him.

She couldn't risk it. She had a family to consider. A son to put through college, she had to take care of them.

She had to tell Dr. Howard that she was right about NBE-2, that it was a munificent being, just as she thought. But she and the others had to find proof in order to convince their superiors to attempt to initiate contact with NBE-2 and to enlist its help in the defense of Earth, something more that just the words of someone being used as a science experiment, whose judgments might be impaired.

If she tried to help him now, she would end up in Section N44E where she could do _nothing_.

She simply couldn't risk it.

'_I'm so sorry.'_ She thought as she left him to his fate, '_I can't help you.'_

As she walked to her office, she couldn't help but think that she too had become one of the monsters.

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Author Notes:

Hello again,

**Subject Guide:**

Subject 2500: Keith

Subject 2501: Unnamed

Subject 2502: Isabel

Subject 2503: Jacob

Once again, to everyone who read and reviewed, Thanks.

Happy Holidays,

-BlueLunacy7


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